


Dragon Age Prompts

by scarletcougar



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Gen, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletcougar/pseuds/scarletcougar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts from Tumblr's Dragon Age Fanweek suggestions</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knight-Commander Cullen & Templar-Recruit Keran

Keran stood silently before the hideous burnt metal statue of Meredith in the courtyard of the Gallows. His armor was tarnished and stained. The blood of the battle earlier in the week still dried there. He had been so afraid as he stood shield for three children. Mage-born, but still just children whimpering and crying. They were aged five, six, and nine. And he was all they had as protection from the horrors of Meredith, the Templars that followed her and the demons waiting for those three younglings to be just afraid enough to turn to them.

_“No matter what whispers to you, say NO. They cannot have you. They cannot turn you into monsters. You are safe with me. I promised to protect you and I will.” Keran had stated firmly with false courage._

_Cullen had found him hours after all had gone quiet. He was more proud of this young recruit than he could have been of anyone._

Keran refused to clean his armor. He had a hard time holding down food. Cullen sent him to try to find his sister in Lowtown. But she had been killed in the anarchy before Aveline could reign in control of the city. He came back looking so lost, like those who has barely survived the shock of Ostagar back at the time of the Blight.

Cullen watched from a distance. Keran had confessed a deep fear of Meredith once. Said being in her presence felt the same as when those blood mages tried to implant a demon in him. Cullen should have known then. He was so blinded by his beliefs. Anders, that fool mage, had been right all along. He knew. He left for Kirkwall for that reason only to find it worse here than any circle and could not leave for fear he would be leaving people unprotected. The Champion of Kirwall and Anders tried to warn him of Meredith. He didn’t believe them, not till she executed Thrask. Thrask… a good Templar knight. A good man. Keran too was a good man. Meredith was sure the youth was possessed. Keran hid from her whenever he could.

Now he watched Keran approach the horror of Meredith in the courtyard. This could be a turning point or a breaking point for the young knight. Keran just stood there for so long staring at the atrocity. “The Maker heard you after all, Meredith. And he judged you as he saw fit. Mages are just people, like the rest of us. They have talents, which are just different. Yes, they are at risk. But our duty was never to damn them to that fate but to protect them from it. We are Templar knights. We are here to protect people, not harm them.”

Cullen stepped out from the alcove then to stand beside the young recruit. “Agreed. Will you still stay with us as a Templar? We will need to get some lyrium and teach you how to use it.” He added when the young man nodded.

“Knight-Commander Cullen? I do not wish to be addicted to it. I have seen it drive some mad. Can we not find some other way? I heard rumor from a Fereldan that their King, Alistair, was a Templar and could still do what Templars did but was not bound to the dust.” Keran looked up a bit shyly.

“Keran, you will make one of the best Templar knights I have ever known. Thrask would be so proud.” Cullen rested a hand on Keran’s shoulder. “I will send word to him to ask how he manages. But I do know you need to have some of that lyrium in you or there is no sense or chance to do what we do. Will you take the vows?”

“What if I do not agree with how the Chantry has decreed things to be?”

“We will hold to the vows according to the Maker, not the words of men or women of the Chantry. We are here to protect people, mages and their families. I would like that you help me to do so.”

Keran dropped his eyes to the stained cobblestones. “Kirkwall is not safe for any of them.” He had seen what madness ran rampant through the streets barely checked but overtaxed city guards.

“I spoke with the Prince of Starkhaven. He will give us sanctuary to form a new kind of Circle. Shall I meet you in the Tower for your vows?”

Keran thought hard and looked at the statue of Meredith. “Are the children alright?” he finally asked.

A boy becomes a man in times like this. “Yes. The ones you protected are. They ask for you often. I think they miss you.” He saw a small flicker of a smile on Keran’s face.

“Then I shall get cleaned up sir and see you in the Tower soon.”

Cullen watched Keran gain purpose with each step he took and nodded to himself. To the twisted form of Meredith he prayed to the Maker, “Maker, forgive me for my silence, for I have condemned a good man to martyrdom for a cause we he and I both fought for in our quiet ways. One day, I will reveal to the world that it was Meredith who poisoned things in the Chantry and blew it into the Void. For now, let Anders’ death be hailed with great honors for the cause, maybe as much as Andraste was for her cause against slavery and corruption in Tevinter. I allowed his companions to believe he had done the deed, just as he had, out of a promise long ago. Maker, take him to your side and show him he has not been abandoned. Let him know I heard his plea and kept my promise and pray his freedom is one of peace with you.”

Cullen took in a deep breath and strode into the Tower to prepare to knight several of the recruits, and re-knight others who have chosen to side with him. The mages would all be present to witness their swearing to the Maker to protect them and their kind, and to never again be their jailors or tormentors. Not ever again under Cullen’s watch. Not ever again.


	2. OC Week: Archer from Tevinter

All things come to an end. Father had always said so. He also said freedom was being able to choose how. He chose to protect the River Dalish from becoming slaves to the Tevinter magisters. That was twelve years ago. He left behind a wife and three sons, aged 23, 14, and 13.

All things come to an end. Mother said so. She also said that the best we can do is die with dignity. The eldest brother didn’t die thus despite his capacity the live life with the passion one can only have when they know their next breath might be their last. That was two years after father left. Five years later, mother went to heal in a village locked up under quarantine. Tevinter Magisters reduced it to ash a week later, with her in it while teen brothers watched in horror from a hill.

All things come to an end. They dreamed of the heroism of Wardens. They dreamed of being famous, healer and warrior. They dreamed of finding treasure and wealth from ruins and caves and traveling the ocean like pirates. They dreamed of fighting darkspawn and saving the world. Those were more one brother’s dreams than the other. Those came to an end too with that older brother.

Sweat and smoke stung the young healer’s eyes. All things come to an end. Those dreams ended with the gasping breaths of his brother. Magic served no one any good in the end. It didn’t save his father or the Dalish. It didn’t save the eldest brother’s life. It didn’t save a village under plague. It in fact obliterated it with his mother. And it didn’t save this brother, either. He set the torch to the thatched roof, then the wooden shed that held the drying herbs for the healing potions, and then to the autumn wilting gardens.

All things come to an end. Freedom is the ability to choose how. All one can do is to die with dignity. He shouldered his pack and his bow. He never wanted to really be a hero, never wanted to fight anyone’s fights, never wanted to be anything more than a healer. But he could not stay here any longer. Tevinter magisters would only come again, would only ruin more dreams. His dreams were gone now with everything he loved and cared about. If he could not live his own dreams, then maybe he could try to live the dreams of the brother he begged to stay home.

_My end will be the same as my brothers. I have the freedom to choose how that end will be and for them… for me… die with dignity in the short time that I have left._

He touched the medallion his father gave him and turned his back from his former life. Facing south, he walked. Antiva was that direction and so was the Ansburg Wardens Keep. He had no idea how far, nor did he really care. The cold and numbness from what recently happened started to sink in. All he thought about was one foot in front of the other. Then one small question after another once he crossed the border from Tevinter into Antiva. Till at last he stood at the gates of the Ansburg Warden’s Keep, nestled on the north of the Free Marches, just above Starkhaven, just below Tevinter, and between Antiva and Orlais.

A Warden called down from the tower above the gate, “You there, archer. Why are you here?”

“I have come to join the Wardens,” he called up. There was no turning back now. The gates opened and he was let in.


	3. Poly Week: Anders/Fenris/Sebastian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders/Fenris/Sebastian in Sebastian's bed... cuddling...

_“Fen, if I am not here when you get back. The doors will be unlocked and you may come join us.”_

Anders’ words hung in the elf’s mind like a constant distraction throughout the day. Fenris had wanted to come first, had insisted to not be left out. Anders was good to his word on it. This was going to be a long training day and observing the recruits as they go through their first city patrol routes. It was made longer by Anders’ words this morning. An invitation… into Sebastian’s bedchamber… to share intimacy with both the prince and the healer. Fenris had long stopped calling Anders abomination or even mage.

What would happen in that bedchamber? Would they wait for Fenris? Or would he possibly walk into the middle of something awkward and embarrassing? Fenris shook his head to try to clear the thoughts so he could focus on the group of men and women before him.

It was through Sebastian’s patience and gentleness, prayers and cuddling that Anders had recovered as well as he had. Sebastian and Fenris were starting to see the person Anders might used to have been, or the man Anders might have grown into if so many horrible things had not happened. Anders was curious, had ingenuity, healed with unrelenting passion and compassion like it was his true calling, started to laugh easily and had the silliest of humors that you could not help but laugh in turn at his words or antics.

Sebastian never forgot that kiss on the sofa that sent Fenris shocked and striding hard from the room. Anders had wriggled free and chased after him immediately. Sebastian never pushed. He hadn’t pushed that first time either. It just… happened. He and handers had talked about it the following day. And the many days after as they danced awkwardly around each other and Fenris. Awkwardly… Only Sebastian felt like he was the awkward one. Fenris watches with the stillness of a hunting cat. Anders was the one with experience here and seemed to know how far to explore something and when.

But these last few days, Sebastian had been too busy to even notice either of his close friends. Anders found him finally after dinner. He sat at his desk in his private suite across the hall from Anders’ and Fenris’ suite. Sebastian was almost ready to sweep all the papers, inkwell and all off the desk in his exhausted frustration. Hands descended onto his shoulders and began to massage the tension out. He sighed heavily, “Anders, you have incredible timing.”

“You’ve spent months taking care of me. This time, let me take care of you.” Anders waved a large bottle of massage oil he spent the week making. It had some mild healing qualities with hints of oakmoss and vanilla as the lightest of undertones. It was a good multipurpose oil. He could and had used it to rub into the scrapes and sores Fenris accumulated in training his recruits. He had used it to simply moisturize when the air got too dry and dried the skin. It proved perfect for one evening Fenris insisted on being first about. It would serve just fine for Sebastian as well. “Your letters can wait till morning when you have a rested and cleared head for them. Come, I’ll give you a full massage.”

Sebastian wandered to his bed chamber and removed most of his clothing. “Are you going to spend the night here again since Fenris will be out late?”

“May I? The nightmares still come.”

It was one of the reasons Sebastian and Fenris came to an agreement about the sleeping arrangements. Anders still could not sleep alone. They tried is three weeks ago. Terror-filled screaming tore through the royal wing for hours till Sebastian could calm Anders down. The blond was silent and shaking for two days after and Fenris had to assign someone to replace him so he could stay with Anders. Now Anders would sleep with Sebastian if Fenris was going to be out late. Like tonight. While it was a standing acceptance that Fenris may come in anytime to join them or coax Anders away, Fenris never did. The elf felt too uncomfortable. Tonight though, Anders had specifically invited.

Sebastian felt oddly uncomfortable now when Anders insisted the prince be naked for this. Laying on his stomach on the bed, Anders straddled over him. With expertly practiced fingers that had not forgotten how to do this, Anders rubbed the oil over Sebastian’s body, massaging and digging into knots. The prince relaxed more and more till he was almost asleep, mumbling his enjoyment. Anders simply chuckled and set the bottle of oil on the bedside. He draped blankets over the prince and undressed himself, readying to climb into the bed with him.

Sebastian rolled onto his side to spoon around Anders as the mage climbed into the bed. This was routine by now. Anders snuggling in, like a kitten. Sebastian lazily stroking his arm or side. That Sebastian would sometimes awaken stiff and wanting was normal, too, though he had never acted upon it before. Biting his lower lip, he debated with himself. Startling the mage was definitely not acceptable, not now that he knew when Anders had been through at the hands of Templars. He swallowed and pressed his lips to the back of Anders’ shoulder and whispered his name. Anders turned partly to face the prince and smiled, the dark room illuminated only by moonlight. Anders had expected this, was in a way hoping for it. _Was that wrong?_

“Sebastian? Are you sure?” Anders asked softly.

Sebastian could not believe Anders was even asking. “I think I should be the one asking you. Everything you have been through. How quiet you have been. Things starting between you and Fenris…”

“I invited him to join us when he gets in.”

The prince gasped a little nervously. Anders turned in Sebastian’s arms and snuggled in closer. The cuddling always endeared him to Anders. It was chaste and safe. The kiss even had been chaste. He never thought he would still be curious about exploring a man intimately. But it was not like he could just go out to a brothel now, not without risking his reputation. So even exploring women again was out of the question till he wed. But Anders was here now, and seemed willing enough. He pressed his lips to the mage’s brow and murmured a blessing. Anders giggled, trying hard not to. “What?”

“Does prayer really belong here, now, when we might be doing something altogether not… uh…”

“Prayer is totally acceptable in intimate settings,” Sebastian countered. He tried to find a way to justify what they were doing or going to do, but could not find anything in the Chant off the top of his head. “Besides… it was just a blessing.”

Anders leaned up and touched his lips lightly to Sebastian’s, “Thank you. But I never really thought the Maker gave a damn about me. No offense.”

“None taken. But I think he does or you would not be here, safe with me and Fenris. You would not have been saved. Your life would not have been spared. Somewhere… the Maker saw something good and worthy in you. And do I.”

Anders bit his lip, eyes glistening in the moonlight. He buried his face into Sebastian’s chest to hide the brimming tears.

The door opened silently just then and Sebastian lifted his face to see Fenris entering. Sebastian hugged Anders close. Fenris was deeply relieved he was not walking in on something sexual. He was not expecting to catch the shuddering muffled breaths of a crying Anders though. Releases of emotion like this had mostly subsided. Maybe he was wrong. Anders still had a great deal of healing to do. Fenris gave the prince a nod and inched into the bed behind Anders, murmuring like a deep purr that he was there.

Anders found himself snuggled between these two men who have proven to care for him more than he ever hoped. He loved them both. Fenris pressed his whole body to the back of Anders’, while Anders curled up against Sebastian’s shoulder.

“It feels like a kitten pile,” Anders whispered with a lighter heart.

Two other sets of eyes blinked open in surprise then they all deteriorated into laughter.


	4. Fenders: Martyrdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragic thought that popped into my head based off someone's prompting. It might get used in a fic somewhere.

A stiff curtain of white veiled his vision. As much as he wanted to lift his chin and really look, he found he could not. What lengths would he have gone to push for freedom if he could? Who would he have killed? What would he have risked? Would he have willingly stood and died for his beliefs? Anders words echoed back, reminding Fenris of words he had said to Hawke once.

"It was nice to be happy… for a while."

Martyrdom is a powerful tool. And besides, Anders wanted to be free of the spirit and wasn’t this the only way? He felt ashamed that he did not have that kind of courage to save the slaves in Tevinter. “He wants death. I say we give it to him."

Fenris didn’t even flinch when he heard Hawke’s blade slide between the padding and through flesh as if sheathed where it belonged. He could not watch though. Chin down, white veil of hair blocking his sight. He listened to the others comment with their approvals or disapprovals and then head to the battle, to protect the innocent lives Anders just died for. “I’ll be there soon, Hawke."

He knelt to one knee by the crumpled mage. Blood seeped through the fabric in Anders’ back. He yet lived. He… yet lived… barely. He could see the slow overlay of the spirit seeping from him as he gasped each slowing breath. Fenris phased his hand and watched Justice pulse like a ghost with Anders flagging heartbeat. Fury kept him there watching and waiting. As if snatching a small fish from water, Fenris made a grab… for Justice. He peeled the spirit from Anders body.

"What is done cannot be undone. You have died. Justice is… gone. If you stay very still, I will come back for you. If you still live, I will take you away. If you die… I will see you properly tended."

Amber eyes fluttered open and up at Fenris.

"For freedom, my friend." Fenris stood and trotted off after Hawke.

Those amber eyes watched the retreating back for a few heartbeats before drooping shut again.


	5. Fenders: Make Me a Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from StormDragon

_It had been almost 15 years ago. Anders sat in a small ship cabin with Fenris as Athenril sailed them away from Kirkwall out to Fereldan. Their relationship had been rocky at best. Volatile at worst. Justice frequently a source of that tension. But Fenris, unlike any of the others, sought Anders out, dragged him back to the living world, reminded him to care and to redeem himself through his actions to the people. Fenris, stuck by him. Fenris was possibly the only one who could stop him if he ever lost himself again to Justice. “Fenris, Make me a promise. Promise me that you will never let me hurt anyone again. Promise me… promise me that you will end me, not let me die a slow death or be lost to the corruption within me. Will you make me this promise, Fenris?" He did. Of course he did. He had made that promise the very first day he had met Anders._

It was 15 years ago when Fenris learned about the Wardens, even learned some secrets about them that no one talks about. Like the Calling. It had been 15 years that he has stayed by Anders side, protecting the mage and ensuring he did not fall to harm or cause harm, watching for any signs that the mage was falling prey to corruption and a slow death. When he first heard that Anders life would be shortened, he had always assumed it was because of Justice. That the corruption Anders had worried about was that of the spirit… not that of the taint.

He held Anders in his arms, head bowed so their brows pressed close. Yes, he made Anders a promise. Knowing the man who became his friend, more than, was terrified of the dark enclosed spaces and the Deep Roads, he made a second promise, that Anders would never go down there again.

So when Anders’ time came, and it came so soon, too soon, probably because of the rite that removed Justice, Fenris headed out to an open field with Anders, to an apple tree they liked to sit under. The taint had started to crawl in grey lines along Anders veins. He had not lost his senses yet, but knew it would be soon. They sat under the tree. Anders in Fenris’ arms, brows pressed together.

"Fenris, I trust you with my life."

Fenris rested a hand affectionately over Anders heart. “I know. And I made you a promise." Their eyes met, then their lips briefly. Lyrium brands hummed and glowed as the elf’s hand phased part-way into the Fade and sank into the mage’s chest. He felt a shuddering gasp. Fenris’ hand closed till he could feel a warm heart beat… and flutter… and still. Anders let out a sigh between their lips.

_Goodbye my friend. I will see you when my time comes._

He carried Anders body back to Vigil’s Keep for a funeral and then volunteered to go through the Joining right after.


	6. 3-Line Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: OTP heartache... in no more than 3 lines. This is sort of a Fenders. Hawke is there. Fenris & Anders.

He didn’t think Hawke would do it, thought Hawke would protest his encouragement. But the blood pooled and oozed towards his bare toes. He stared down. He already missed the sarcastic jests. He wished he could take back the moment. He wished he could rip out his own heart. Anders silent amber eyes still held the sad crease between them, even though they were vacant of life.


End file.
